Journey Of A Shaolin Monk
by ForeverYoungWriter
Summary: My take on the events the unfolded during Deadly Alliance from Kung Lao's point of view. I've added some new twists and turns so as not to palgerize the official owners of Mortal Kombat.
1. Chapter 1

PROLOGUE

- **Outworld** -

- **Shang Tsung's **Palace -

It was a dark evening. Lightning raged all around, lighting up the sky as if offering natures flashlight. Thunder crackled intensely, practically deafening anyone who was outside at the time. A slight rain was beginning to pick itself up, making for an eerie backdrop to the brick laden palace. The palace itself was enormously breathtaking, huge with turrets all around it, and several large tower's sticking out from a central hub. It was not unlike something out of a fairy tale, something that had belonged to a king of some sort at one time. But _he_ knew better. This was far from some property that once belonged to royalty of any sort, not even close. It belonged to a Sorcerer, a sorcerer capable of great power, one driven by phenomenal evil. Shang Tsung had allied himself with fellow another fellow sorcerer Quan Chi, and although the two of them had a checkered history together, they had put aside past differences and to great effect. Shao Kahn, forever the supreme emperor of all outworld realms, had been slain after a deceitful promise of from them. And he wouldn't be the last victim.

As the Shaolin monk set his first steps on the wooden bridge that led across the deep and wide trench to the gigantic wood doors at front of the Shang Tsung's palace, **Kung Lao** felt a strange stinging sensation in the back of his mind. The last time he had felt that was when he had practically foreseen the death of his brother and fellow monk Liu Kang. The four times champion of the Mortal Kombat tournament, slain at the hands of the Deadly Alliance. His neck snapped at the hands of Shang Tsung himself. Kung Lao had been able to do nothing about it, as he was away training members of his newly formed White Lotus Society. He would have to swallow his pride, and give peace to his mind in the coming moments. He knew that very soon he was about to engage in what was going to be the most important fight of his life, the most important he had ever fought or would ever fight. He needed a clear mind, anger and guilt driven completely from it.

Strolling over the bridge, Lao glanced down at the water, which was too pitch black to see any signs of life. _Probably filled with all sorts of debris and chemical runoff_, he thought. He was dressed in his traditional monk's clothing; his dark blue Mandarin button-up jacket with long sleeves, his tan baggy Archaic Wushu pants that tucked into his traditional mid cloth boots. His Dao sword, the traditional curved saber of many Chinese monks and warriors was in it's sheath, slung horizontally around the lower half of his back. His trademark top hat custom with razor sharp edges adorned his head. A shiny black single-braided pony tail ran the length of his back. Around his waist he'd tied a red sash, wrapping it around him like a belt. The same red sash that had formally belonged to his best friend , usually worn around Liu Kang's forehead during combat.

He had not gotten halfway across the bridge when the rain began to pick up heavily. The large wooden doors that composed of the palaces entrance were concealed under a concrete overhang, but Kung Lao knew he'd be drenched by the time he got there. The darkness that lurked inside was, to the untrained outward eye, hidden by the beautiful florescent stain glass windows. _One could almost pass this off as an honorable living quarters_, he thought, _almost_. As he arrived at the end of the bridge and took refuge under the cement ceiling, he took off his hat and hung it down the center top half of his back, as the hat was secured in place by a soft piece of tread the wrapped around his neck, yet didn't seem to choke him. He fluffed out his dark black pony tail so that it stuck out more prominently now hanging above the hat.

_What, no guards to fend me off, or booby traps send me to my death, I'm insulted Shang_, Kung Lao thought to himself with a smile, as he stood in front of the palace gates.

He checked around the front, still no signs of any guards or any other life for that matter. The thunder storm had picked up even worse, throwing turbulent wind in, and showing no signs of letting up. He turned his attention fully back to the gates. _Now, to get inside_, he thought, _going right through the front gate is probably the best option. At least it's the most ballsy_. He turned to the razor sharp Dao sword draped around his back and removed it from it's holder. With one powerful thrust, he stuck it in between the doors, and worked it up and down in the crack. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard a snapping sound, the lock to the doors finally cracked, Kung Lao withdrew his sword and holstered it back in it's scabbord. He heaved open the oak doors, then walked through, and shut the doors behind him.

The inside of the center hall was enormous. A large oval room, with multiple sets of staircases that where at least twenty to thirty steps high, leading to a second floor that circled the perimeter of the room as well. He was immediately taken aback by a sight that both horrified him and filled him with a secret sense of amazement, though he would never admit it. Souls- hundreds, maybe even thousands of them, flying in an unorganized pattern around the room, all making the screeching sounds of agony and pain. There ultimate destination was a giant Soul tornado in a far corner of the room. _One of these is Liu's_. As that thought came into his head, so did another one. _I have to succeed, no matter the consequnces, and whatever the end_. Lao began to walk toward a set of staircases that went up to the second floor, the ones he figured would lead to the sorcerers chamber's. He started toward the stairs when a loud hissing voice suddenly echoed through the main chamber, stopping Kung Lao in the center of the room.

"So, you finally made it. I was beginning to think you wouldn't come"

Kung Lao glanced around wearily, as he began to move to the center of the room with caution. He couldn't hone in on the position of the echoing voice, and with two stories and dozens of pillars and other architecture to hide behind, Shang Tsung could be anywhere. He turned circles as he searched the room, then faced back toward the main steps.

"Show yourself, you coward", He shouted out.

"When you are ready to see me, I will be revealed to you", the voice hissed back.

The voice of snake, how suiting for scum like him

, Kung Lao thought. He continued his gaze upon every section of the room. There was a long period of silence that irked him, a sense that some kind of trap was about to be sprung upon him. He continued to turn circles in the large chamber, fists drawn to a ready, eyes gazing all around. Unbeknownst to Kung Lao, a translucent figure, practically invisible to the naked eye, began to approach him from behind.

"Their beautiful aren't they?", the voice continued to hiss and echo.

"What's that?", Kung Lao replied.

"My master's souls…"

At that, he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes suddenly widening. He didn't even have a second to react before he felt a powerful foot connect right into the center of his back. The force of the roundhouse put Kung Lao into a twirling spin in the air disorienting him, and sending his Dao sword and hat detaching from his persons, skidding across the ground hitting the far wall.

His vision momentarily blurred, Lao scrambled to his feet and turned back to face his attacker. He could make out the transparent figure only slightly, but it didn't matter because a few seconds later, the mysterious figure began to voluntarily remove it's camouflage as it continued to walk toward him. Within seconds, he could make out a warrior, dressed head to toe in lime green ninja garb.

"And who might you be?", he inquired.

"Your question isn't necessary, as dead men need no answers", the stranger replied back.

Kung Lao smiled.

The battle with Shang Tsung would have to wait, for this was something completely different…


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

- **White Lotus Society** Temple -

- **Hung Su** Province, **China** -

The night before it happened, Kung Lao had had a hard time sleeping. He'd woken up numerous times throughout the night sweating, having to drink several canteens of water to stay hydrated. He couldn't shake the nightmeres he'd had from his head. Visions of his Shaolin brother Liu Kang writhing in agony, letting out screams of pain before two hands grabbed his head and snapped his neck. He had only told **Master Quing** about the visions, needing someone to talk to but not wanting to bother or scare his fellow monks. Master Qinghai had advised it was nothing to worry about, probably just a random occurrence.

Kung Lao sat up on his bed, simple blankets adorning the floor, keeping in Shaolin tradition. Though he'd left the monastery after age eighteen, he had stayed true to the teachings and traditions through all the years. He watched the sun rise through his window for a while before slipping on his monk pants and robes. He then proceeded with his traditional morning stretching, pulling his ankels together and bending over touching his head to his shins. He parted his legs horizantly going all the way down touching his groin to the ground. His faced winced in pain. _Early morning stretching always works out the kinks_, he thought to himself. After some upper body stretching, he walked over to his table and grabbed an elastic band, wrapping a ponytail into his hair.

He walked outside and across the upper cement platform of one of the living halls his room was located in. He stood in the corner for a while gazing to a courtyard in the distance, as some of his pupils underwent Shaolin fist posing drills from Master Qinghai. Lao glanced around, checking out the construction that was going up. Several halls that were going to be used for dinning, living, and various martial arts training. Several courtyards being used for praise to Buddha and growing fruits, vegetables and rice. They had even began construction on a special martial arts hall that would specifically hold tournaments, as Kung Lao had organized matches with fighters from other temples in order to give his students different sense of competition and concept of what fighting an unknown opponent would be like. He smiled. All was going according to plan with the re-assembling of the White Lotus Society.

Dropping his body to the cement, he sat cross-legged falling pulling himself into meditation. His mind soon turned to a pure whiteness, pushing away all outside thoughts. As he fell into a deep meditation, the noise from the monks exercising soon drowned out, he could not feel the slight breeze pick up, nor the summer Chinese sun roasting down on the monastery. For a while he sat in perfect harmony, conscious clear and free from earth's desires and troubles.

However these feeling of peace did not last. Returned soon the visions of Liu screaming as if being tortured, before a hand on his chin and one on the skull twist his neck sideways. The visions shook Kung Lao violently out of his meditation. His body shook, but he forced himself to breath deeply and concentrate to re-achieve his perfect zen. Try as he might though, the feelings were still coming back to haunt him. He opened his eyes and stood up, returning his gaze to the courtyard where the monks were practicing. _I have to leave, I cannot stay here_…he thought. _May Buddha give them safety_.

At around noon, the monks came in and gathered around the dinning halls as rice bowls filled with mixed rice and various fruits and vegtables were distributed. They sat, not at tables, but in small groups of semi-circles on the ground, with their individual food bowls and canteens of water placed in front of them. Kung Lao had spent the whole morning in meditation, but felt the presence of Qinghai walking up the steps without having to even open his eyes, and of stood as a sign respect. As Master Qinghai got to the top and the two men bowed to each other, smiling.

"Buddha be blessed" they greeted each other.

Qinghai looked at him sympathetically. Kung Lao shook his head.

"It hasn't been helping?" he asked.

"No" Kung Lao responded to him, "We need to talk"

"Very well", Qinghai said, looking grimely at the ground, as the two men entered the dinning hall together.

As the monks sat on the floor, Kung Lao and Qinghai sitting at the back of the hall, on the floor as well representing that no human is above another. While the two masters ate, out of hearing distance from the other monks, Lao turned to Qinghai with a serious, albeit sad look on his face.

"Master Qinghai, I need to make sure, I won't rest until I know".

"You don't trust that he would be able to take care of himself, even if a situation arouse in which he was in danger?", Qinghai replied.

"It's not that, it's just…"

"You still feel that the threat to him is real, and more then just a bad dream", Qinghai finished the sentence for him. Kung Lao just stared at him, giving a look that Qinghai interpreted as a "yes".

"So, you're really going to go then, aren't you?"

"Yes…I won't have peace until I know for sure". "After Liu beat Shang Tsung in the Mortal Kombat tournament, Shao Khan sent hordes of his Tarkatan warriors into earth realm to rip apart the Shaolin temple for revenge. Many of the monks were killed, Liu managed to protect a few…But had I been there, perhaps most of the temple would have been saved. I wasn't there however, I was away trying to put up the suspensions up on the first White Lotus Society. I'd had a bad feeling before and it turned out to be truth. Out of guilt I followed Liu into Outworld to fight Shao Khan in his all out battle. As a result, the White Lotus never really got past it's tentative beginnings. So you see, we are in a very similar situation now. I don't won't a repeat of that incident".

Qinghai stared at the floor, pondering for a second, then turned back to Kung Lao.

"Very well, after lunch I'll pack the horse while you get ready".

The two men then returned to their food, and ate out the rest of their meal in silence from each other.

Kung Lao emerged from his living quarters, later in the afternoon. He was, however, not dressed in monk robes, but in his fighting outfit. Mandarin dark blue button up jacket, oversized archaic cotton wushu pants that tucked into his cutsom made boots. They were thicker and therefore sturdier then standard normal monk shoes, making it more comfortable for intense endurance fighting. Broadsword slung horizontally across his back. He walked down the cement steps of the living hall and over to the shade where Qinghai had tied up his horse and was getting it ready.

"I've packed you enough food and water for the trip…Are you sure you have to-"

"It's a must." Kung Lao retorted.

"It's difficult however, as we're still in the middle of constuction of the temple and-"

"You'll be fine without me," Lao interrupted him, "You know how I want the project finished. Besides, you're the sole master now, conduct the exercises as you so choose."

Master Qinghai looked down for a moment realizing he could not change Kung Lao's mind.

"What should I tell the students?" Asked Qinghai.

"Just tell them I went on a goodwill trip with peace offerings."

And with that Kung Lao sped off, headed toward the Wu Shi academy with prestine urgency.

- **Wu Shi** Academy -

- **Zhu Jing** Province, **China** -

By the time Kung Lao arrived at the trainning grounds of the Wu Shi academy, he knew immediately that something was wrong, almost feeling it in the air. He hoped off the horse, tying it to a post outside the temple then, ran through the gate. As he entered, he saw the Shaolin Monks moving in a typical funeral tradition, signifying that someone had just died, and right at that, it hit him hard. It was Liu. He ran to lei tai and saw the body laying in the middle. He approached slowly, cautious. No need to rush what he already knew had happened. He walked over and bent down, picking up Liu Kang's body and holding it in his arms. His neck he been snapped in half. Having been a Shaolin Monk, Kung Lao held his emotions in. He shed no tears. After a few moments he laid Liu's body back down and shut his eye lids with his fingers.

"At least he looks better then he smells" Lao thought to himself out loud.

"Yea, dead guys usually look better then they smell" a voice from behind him retorted.

Kung Lao smiled, instantly recognizing it.

He turned to find a tall man with long white hair. It was Raiden, the God of thunder and protecter of Earth. He stood there almost arrogantly, glancing down at Kung Lao hunched over Liu Kang's body.

"So, you can't interfere unless the rules are broken, huh?", Kung Lao inquired.

"No, I can't. But the rules were broken…", Raiden replied.

"So why didn't you interfere"

"I'd been appointed status of Elder God, which means I couldn't do anything reguardless." said Raiden.

"What happened to the promise that you'd always watch over us and protect earth?" asked Kung Lao.

"Settle down Kung Lao, I've come to help you. We're gonna get Shang Tsung back for this…"


End file.
